Never Forget
by theultimatenerdgurl
Summary: A year after Gokudera was rescued by Yamamoto, she's still in the hospital, and suffering from the memories that are now surfacing from her time in captivity. The only problem is, Yamamoto hasn't visited her since he first dropped her off at the Italian hospital. Will she ever completely forgive him? YamamotoxFem!Gokudera. Continuation of Those Unspoken Words
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: Okay, so I've gotten a few questions from friends wanting to know what exactly happened to Gokudera in Those Unspoken Words, so I came up with this. I don't know how many parts it's going to be in yet.**  
-

I remember.  
It's been five months.  
I'm still in the hospital.  
But I remember.  
I remember the pain, I remember the fear, I remember the resistance, **I remember.**  
And I'll never forget.  
Because things like that don't just happen.  
And when they do, they stay with you.  
_Forever._

Wind whips around me, tussling with my now short hair and my hospital robe. I sit on the balcony overlooking the quiet city in my wheelchair, my left arm bleeding slightly from where I had pulled out my IV. I'm just waiting for the frantic nurses to find me and drag my back into that stuffy room, hook me back up to the damn machine, and tie me to the bed to keep me from leaving again. Of course, it never works. I always manage to get away from them, even if it's only for a short while.

I look out over the city and sigh – it's been two weeks since my last visitor, and I ended up throwing things at him just to get him to leave me alone (damn Lawn Head…). I _need_ to get out of here, I need to get back to Japan, but no, I'm stuck in Italy. Granted, I _missed_ Italy, and I still do, because there's not much you can see from a hospital room window, but my place is in Japan, with my family. I'm sixteen years old, and this is my sixth major trip to a hospital in a little over two years. As much as I hate the damned things, I can't seem to stay out of them.

I roll closer to the railing and rest my forehead against the cool metal with a sigh. It's been nearly a year since I landed in this place, and he hasn't visited once. Not that I don't mind or miss him, for that matter, it's just strange, seeing how everyone else has visited _but_ him. I don't blame him for not showing up, though, even though he was the one that dropped me off here, which saved my life. He was the one that found me there, broken and bleeding –

I pull my head back from the railing and clench my fists to try and stop the flood of memories. I don't want to remember, I don't want to go back to that place; I want to stay here where I'm safe. I slowly relax my muscles as the memories slowly fade to the back of my mind, wincing as I accidentally stretch my stitches crisscrossing my abdomen. I'll have hell to pay from my nurse if I popped one of them… Shouts behind me break my concentration, and I throw a surprised glance over my shoulder. This has to be the fastest they've ever found me after I've broken out…

The head nurse walks over to me as I back away from the balcony railing, my face emotionless. I wait for her to scold me, but surprisingly, she doesn't. Instead she folds her arms and stares at me for a minute. I squirm slightly, uncomfortable under her intense gaze. "You're being relocated."

I freeze and tilt my head, not sure I heard her right. "Relocated? Where to?"

She smiles slightly. "Japan. We've talked with Sawada-san, and he's made all the arrangements for you to go back and finish your recuperation there."

My jaw drops. Jyuudaime wants me back in Japan? I had thought he was keeping me out here to keep me out of the line of fire… The head nurse laughs slightly at my surprise and pushes me back to my stuffy room. For once, I don't try to fight. _I'm going home._

When your organs are held together by some thread, air turbulence is not a good thing to experience. Despite the excruciating pain, I stubbornly refuse to take my pain killers. I'm Jyuudaime's right hand – I don't need pain killers.

But it's still a blessing when I pass out.

_I feel cold hard steel against my back, rough leather bindings on my wrists and ankles, a blood-soaked cloth cutting off my desperate breaths. At my feet stands a tall man, his face obscured by shadow. "Your friends are here to rescue you, my pet," he muses, his thick, calloused fingers stroking my leg. I resist the urge to try to kick him – I've tried before and paid, dearly. "Let's give them a little surprise, shall we?" My eyes widen in horror as he steps closer, his face still hidden, and brings his fists down on my abdomen. I scream into the cloth, choking on the fraying fabric, and God takes pity on me._

I sit up in my hospital bed, screaming. My nurses all give yells and screams of their own before they come to their senses and force me back down. "Sedative!" _God no, not that, please I don't want to go back there, I don't want to remember!_ I continue to struggle, tears leaking out of my eyes, begging incoherently. My head nurse holds up a hand to stop whoever was about to administer the sedative and places her cool hand on my burning forehead. "Relax, Haya-chan," she murmurs, "it was just a dream. No one is going to hurt you, okay?"

I stop fighting, and struggle to steady my breathing and bit my lip. _She doesn't know, she couldn't possibly understand what I've been through…_ I nod shakily and she waves away the other nurses, leaving us alone. She sits down in the chair next to my bed. "We'll be in Japan soon," she says, and I know she's trying to distract me from thinking about my dream.

I wipe away the tears and give her a shaky smile. "Thank you," I whisper. Even though I've been a difficult patient (and I always will be), she's always been kind to me, and looked after me, like – _mom._ My throat squeezes shut and I close my eyes, fighting back more tears. I haven't thought about her in years, why am I suddenly thinking of her now? I feel her hand on my shoulder and compose myself before I open my eyes.

"Are you in pain?" She looks genuinely concerned for me. I shake my head, and stare over my head.

"I… I just need a moment." I swallow, and she stands and leaves me alone with my own thoughts. It's been five, almost six months since I finally let myself look back on the days I was captive, and even now, after I've pretty much come to terms with it, I still can't bear remembering it. I turn my head and look out the window, watching the clouds float by, and drift off into a dreamless sleep.

A whole year and he never visited, despite his promise to me that he would be there when I woke up. A whole year and he thinks he can just show up and expect me to forgive him? Yea – no. Not happening. I refuse to even acknowledge his presence as the other guardians (even Hibari) gather into my new (and _surprisingly_ enough, stuffy) hospital room. I actually smile, warmed by their support, and glad to be back with my family. And even though I try to look away from him, my eyes are drawn to him as he stands in the corner of the room, watching silently.

Eventually my family leaves, but he stays. He just stands there in the corner, and I stare at him, hoping I look a little defiant. I shift and wince as I stretch my stitches, and it's then he finally approaches me. "How are you, Haya-chan?"

I glare at him, my face hot. "You didn't visit for a whole year. You left me, alone, in Italy, _for a whole year_. What the fuck, Takeshi?!" I'm more pissed off than I thought, and I feel a small bit of satisfaction when he flinches, but it soon disappears amidst the wash of guilt.

He doesn't meet my eyes. "I…" He pauses and scratches the back of his neck like he always does when he's nervous. "Tsuna didn't let me visit, even though he knew you were going to be mad at me for it, because he knew you would be madder if I left him unprotected to take care of you."

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. _Jyuudaime… _"I…I didn't know," I mumble pathetically, looking down.

He smiles his easy-going smile and finally sits in the chair next to me. "I don't blame you for being mad, Haya-chan. I was mad at first too, but with everything that has happened in the past year, I respect Tsuna for his decision in keeping me here." He reaches out for my hand, but then hesitates for a moment before he takes it. "I really missed you," he says, blushing a little.

I roll my eyes, but smile. "I missed you too, yakyu baka."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Summary: In this part, Gokudera relives more memories, and struggles to keep the flood of memories at bay, while Yamamoto begs her to let him help.**_

* * *

_Bullets fly around me in every direction, and a few hit me, but I feel nothing. I know it's futile, but I continue to fight. I can't be taken captive. I'd rather die than be tortured; because I don't want to run the risk of letting the enemies know anything about our plans, but I also don't want to die. I grunt as a bullet slams into my shoulder, forcing me back onto my knees. This needs to end, and quickly, or I'm dead meat._

I wake, the taste of bile in my mouth, panting. It takes me a minute before I recognize my surroundings enough to calm down. _White walls. White bed. Annoying beeping. Hospital room._ I stare into the harsh white light, and try to calm my breathing. _It was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream._ I lie to myself to keep my sanity. But I know it's not working. I know what happened to me there was real, and I will be haunted by it for the rest of my life. For now, though, I just want to forget. I want to heal, get back to normal life, and then find a way to deal with the memories.

I jump when my door creaks open, and relax slightly when I see it's just Yamamoto. I'm still pissed he didn't at least try to come visit, even though he was under orders, but I'm not as mad as I originally thought. He's so easy-going and charismatic; it's hard to stay mad at him long, if at all.

He smiles when he sees me awake. "Hey," he says quietly. Then he notices my still panicked breathing and a frown creases his features. He sits down next to me and takes my hand. "Another memory?" he asks quietly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I look at him, surprised, and he shrugs. "I talked with your head nurse – she told me everything that's been going on this past year with your recovery."

I don't meet his gaze. "Yes," I whisper, barely audible. "It was another memory."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I instantly stiffen and pull my hand away, saying nothing. He notices my fear and withdrawal and sighs. "You will have to talk about it eventually, Haya-chan," he says. "That's not something you can keep bottled up forever."

"Don't lecture me," I snap, scared. "I'm not going to talk about it, ever. Just… leave me alone." I fold my arms across my chest and turn away, trying to conceal my shaking.

He sits there for a moment more before he gets up and leaves, watching me. It's not until the door finally snaps shut I put my face in my hands, silently crying into my hands. I want to tell him, I really do, but I don't want to be sucked back into that hell. It takes a good five minutes before I finally calm down again.

My head nurse (I think her name is Camilla) walks in with my painkillers. I make a face, and she shakes her head when she notices. "Come on, Haya-chan, you need to take these if you want to get better."

"Che," I mutter. "They taste disgusting."

Camilla laughs, her white teeth flashing. "They do, don't they? But you need to take them, okay?"

I sigh and reluctantly take them from her, swallowing the vile pills with a grimace. "How much longer until I get out of here, Camilla?"

Her smile disappears and she looks troubled. "You should have been out of here by now, and in rehab. But your wounds… they're healing ten times slower than they should be. Do you remember being given anything? I know you don't like remembering, but this is important…"

I bite my lip and scan my memories quickly, trying to keep myself from being sucked into them. "I don't think so, unless something was in the water…" I shift slightly with a little wince, and look back at the ceiling, shutting out the memories behind hastily constructed walls.

Camilla nods once. "I'll talk with the doctor to see what we can do for you. But until your wounds scar over, I'm afraid you're stuck here." She looks at her watch. "I have to go check up on another patient. Hit the buzzer if you need me, okay?"

I watch her leave and then stare at the sheets covering my healing body. I was so strong, and yet it took next to nothing to reduce me to a drugged up mess. I vow to myself that as soon as I am better, I will train and train until I'm stronger than before, and even then, I won't stop. I clench my fists, ignoring the lines of pain that shoot up my arms, and grin. I will recover.

* * *

Days pass, and only Tsuna comes to visit. He updates me on what happened while I was in Italy – a few assassination attempts, a barely avoided war, and many other small details. I know he's still worried about my condition, but I practically beg him to tell me what went on – I want back in the loop as soon as possible.

On the twelfth day since my arrival in Japan, I have a meeting with the doctor now in charge of me, and he tells me that I am healing better than before, and it should only be two or three weeks until my wounds are completely closed. My heart swells with new-found hope that I had no chance of feeling back in Italy, and I dedicate all my time to my recovery and rehab. I ask my nurses that all visitors be turned away – I want no distractions as I finish up the healing process that has dragged on for far too long.

* * *

_Searing pain jolts along my spine as the knife digs around, trying to pull out the bullet lodged right next to it. I scream into the bloody cloth held between my lips and try to keep my back relaxed. Whoever picked me up is clearly trying to help, but they aren't being nice about it. I hear a faint ping as the bullet hits the ground and sigh as the knife is removed. I feel myself rolled over, and I look on my rescuer for the first time._

_His face is hidden in shadow, but he has broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. I stiffen when I see the insignia on his left shoulder – he belongs to an enemy of the Vongola. "Hello there, little girl," he says, and I try not to shiver at his voice. "I'll pick up a handsome reward from the boss for you… But first, I need you to tell me everything. If you refuse..." He raises the knife in his hand, and I try my best to conceal my fear._

I wake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, startling Yamamoto, who is seated next to me. I cover my face with shaky hands, but he gently pulls them away, holding them in his, his brown eyes searching my green ones. I try to pull my hands away from his, but his grip is strong. "This needs to stop," he says quietly, still searching my face for answers. I open my mouth to say something, but he doesn't give me a chance. "I hate not being able to help you. I'm tired of you pushing me away. I'm not going to leave you to suffer alone, no matter the orders I receive. I want to help you. You can't keep shutting me out like this, Haya-chan." He pauses for a moment. "I love you too much to see you suffer like this."


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: I know my chapters are short! I'm sorry! /shot**

**Summary: Gokudera opens up a little bit, and then gets thrown into physical therapy. **

* * *

_I can't breathe. I struggle, trying to lash out at something, but I'm blind, and there is nothing to hit, besides the steel table to which I am chained. A damp cloth covers my nose and mouth, restricting my air, especially since more water is dripping down on to it as I struggle. I try to scream, but that just lets the cloth further restrict my breaths and leaves me gasping and choking._

I wake, hands flying to my face. Yamamoto catches my hands before they get there and holds me steady as I struggle, murmuring quiet words of comfort. When I relax against his grip, he finally releases me. I take a shaky breath and sigh when my breathing is free and unobstructed. He squeezes one of my hands comfortingly. "What was it this time, Haya-chan?"

Since I reluctantly allowed him to stay with me during my final week in the hospital, he's been gently pressuring me to talk about my dreams, so I don't have to suffer again by myself. I appreciate his concern, but sharing what I experienced is harder than I thought.

"Another torture," I murmur quietly, squeezing his hand, "only this time I couldn't breathe. I had a damp cloth over my face that was slowly being soaked again." I still don't have much control over my emotions, so I'm not surprised when the tears begin to fall.

His face creases with sorrow and he leans forward, planting a light kiss on my brow. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that… I wish I had found you sooner."

"It's not your fault," I murmur, squeezing his hand lightly. _I was stupid; I should have seen it coming…_ I stare off into the distance, spacing out. I don't even hear the door open to admit Camilla, and I only register her presence when she lightly taps me on the shoulder. I glance up at her, frowning, and she hands me a small stack of papers.

"Your release papers," she says with a smile. "Doc says you're good to go."

I push myself up, and for once, I don't feel a twinge of pain, just a dull ache. "Wait, seriously?"

Camilla nods. "Do you want to try to walk, or would you like to wait until rehab for that?"

I look at Yamamoto, who glances pointedly at the wheelchair in the corner of my room. "I… I'll save the walking for rehab, I guess."

Thirty minutes later, I'm dressed in normal street clothes and being wheeled down a long hallway lined with nurses towards the exit. Applause and congratulations follow me, and I offer up a smile. _I'm going home._

* * *

It's strange, entering Namimori after a year of absence. Technically, I'm not supposed to be back in school yet, but Yamamoto has a baseball game today, and I want to surprise him. I guess you could say I've forgiven him for "abandoning" me, and plus, I want to support him like he has supported me.

I'm aware of the stares that follow me as I roll down the hallway, and ignore them. People have stared at me before, and quite honestly, I don't care whether they stare or not. I push open a door at the back of the school that leads to the stadium and follow a few students making their way down to the stands. The game is about to start, so hopefully Yamamoto won't notice me. Yet.

I park my wheelchair in the shade, keeping my hood up so hopefully no one recognizes me. Granted, it's like 90 degrees out, not counting the humidity, but I don't care. I've suffered through worse. I watch the game, half-interested, half-bored, and spend most of the time trying to figure out the worth of such a sport. I mean, it makes sense for Yamamoto, being a swordsman and all, but before that, he was just a normal kid playing baseball.

We end up winning the game, and I watch as his teammates flock around him, congratulating him. My lips curve up in a ghost of a smile – I don't smile much anymore – and I take off the brakes and start to roll away.

Not five minutes later, he catches up to me and takes over the controls, pushing me along. I sigh and don't bother arguing with him – he'll push me whether I want him to or not. We continue on in silence, and for the first time since coming back home, I truly feel at peace.

"You know you're not supposed to be here yet," his voice is low, but I still hear his words.

I snort. "Since when do I ever do what I'm told?"

He remains silent, but I know without looking back that he's smiling. "Thanks for coming today," he says after a while.

I nod and stare at the branches of the trees as we pass by, saying nothing. I start physical therapy tomorrow, so I won't have much time to deal with visitors, or the energy. My injuries have left me with permanent scars, and a very small chance of getting my life back to normal. But for me, it's chance enough. I don't like statistics, because the mind always over-exaggerates, and makes the possible seem impossible. I know if I fight hard, which I will, I'll get back to normal in no time.

* * *

_I don't weep clear salty tears anymore. I weep dark red tears of blood, and my whole body cries out for a release from this agony. But I know that wherever I am, I am alone, and no one is there to rescue me._

I clench my fist and push away the beginnings of one of the darkest memories and stare at the building that will be my new home for the next six weeks. Even though I asked them not to, Jyuudaime and Yamamoto go with me through the front door, and into the lobby.

The place is nicer on the inside than it looks on the outside, but I still don't want to be here. I glance around with a scowl on my face. I have a feeling that this is going to be similar to the torture I went through that landed me here in the first place. Fan-fucking-tastic. I roll myself into what seems to be the head office, Yamamoto and Jyuudaime following my pace. The secretary looks up and smiles when I enter. "Welcome! I assume you must be Gokudera-chan! Your PT nurse should be here in just a few minutes." Then she totally ignores me and devotes all her attention to Jyuudaime and Yamamoto, which I'm not at all surprised by. Ignore the cripple.

My PT nurse is a semi-buff college looking guy with an afro. He takes me back to the back so fast that I don't have a chance to say anything, and soon has me mentally cursing him to hell. Granted I can do all the exercises he gives me, but it doesn't mean they don't hurt!

I am wrong. This is going to be way worse than torture. Because this, as it turns out, is completely voluntary.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.: Two chapters in one day! I really feel bad for Haya-chan... but I really like how this is turning out.**

**Warning: This is a really messed up and disturbing chapter, and the next one will most likely include more disturbing events has Haya-chan recounts the six horrors she suffered while she was captive.**

**Summary: Haya-chan goes through another session of psychological therapy, and even her shrink is disturbed about what happened to her.**

* * *

I've become accustomed to the pain that accompanies my PT training. It's the psychologist visits I dread the most. The woman makes me relive every single agonizing moment of my captivity – what's worse is she's helping me make it into a private book for myself, entitled _Never Forget_. As if I'll ever forget that…

As much as I hate reliving the experience though, I can tell by writing the thoughts down, by getting them out of my head, I can rest easier. I have fewer nightmares, and I can actually describe a bit of what happened to me to fellow patients without freaking out.

I'm five weeks into my six-week stay, and I'm finally out of the wheelchair. I can walk on my own two feet again. I am stronger, and more determined.

I'm currently sitting out in the garden, most of my shoulder-length hair pulled back, working on more of my book. I'm almost done recording what happened to me, and I can tell that even my shrink is disturbed by the details of what I suffered through last year.

It's taken me a while to recover from my physical injuries, but now that I'm almost 100% again, I'll be back training and protecting Jyuudaime soon enough. Depressingly, I'm actually looking forward to going back to Namimori. I miss the fairly routine lifestyle I held, although routine is the worst possible thing for a Mafioso like me.

The steady, fast-paced click-clack of heels on pavement alerts me to the approach of my shrink. I've grown to like her, although I still mostly hate her. She's not like previous shrinks I've had. She actually knows what she's talking about.

I don't look up until she sits across from me, smiling. "Good afternoon, Haya-chan," she says softly, in her annoying therapist voice.

I grunt in greeting, before going back to writing. She watches me write for a moment before she speaks again.

"It's gotten easier, hasn't it?"

I look up in surprise – she can tell that just by watching me?

She takes the journal from me and flips back to the beginning. "Look here. Your handwriting was shaky and nearly illegible in some parts." She flips back to where I am now. "And here, it's clear and steady. You've improved."

I look down at my even writing. "Yeah… Guess so."

She smiles sympathetically – I hate it when people look at me that way – and pats my hand. "Can you read me what you wrote today?"

I glance around – there are other patients around. "Let's go back to my room," I say, "because this isn't something anyone else needs to hear."

She looks a little surprised, but follows me as I walk steadily back to my room. She doesn't even question it when I lock the door behind us, and put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on my doorknob.

I sit down on my air mattress bed and open my journal to where we left off the other day. I take a deep breath, and then begin to read.

_He finally removes the thoroughly soaked, blood-stained rag from my face and leers at me. "Not so tough now, are you, little Storm Guardian?" I resist the urge to spit in his face – I already tried that once, and was rewarded with an on-land drowning experience._

_"Fuck you," I cough out, glaring daggers._

_And he just laughs. "Ohhoho, feisty! Don't worry, I'll smother that fighting spirit of yours soon enough."_

_"Like hell you will!" I shout and buck against my restraints. They give a little, but not enough for me to get free._

_He says nothing, but turns away instead, facing the fireplace where a small fire is burning. I follow his gaze and try to hide my fear. _'Not the fire,'_ I silently beg, _'dear God, please not the fire!'_ The burns I had acquired from my first acquaintance with the scalding iron brand still burned fiercely. _

_He looks down at the ornate watch clasped around his wrist. "You are lucky today, my pet. I have somewhere to be. Tomorrow though, it will be just you and I…" He smiles, his pearly white teeth flashing, and storms out of the room, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind him._

_And despite my hardened resolve and determination to not break, to hold out as long as I can, I break down as soon as the door slams. I can't take this any longer._

I've written more, but I need to get a drink, and I know my shrink wants to talk. I get a glass of water, and wait for her to begin.

"Was that the last…" she pauses, "humane torture?"

I snort. "Che… If you can even call _that_ humane. But yeah, it got worse after that. If I didn't give him the reaction he wanted, he made the pain increase tenfold until he got it."

She nods and waits until I continue, refraining from commenting.

_I don't know how or when, but I managed to fall asleep, and am rudely awakened by the door slamming open again. It must be morning, and he's returned for the day. Fuck._

_I blink rapidly to clear my eyes and watch him as he walks around, gathering a few tools here and there, setting a few down, picking up a different one, until he finally decides on a small wooden box. I don't know what's in the box, but I've heard it make noises when I'm alone. Something alive is in there._

_I suppress a shudder and stare at him defiantly. I don't care what I go through; the pain is nothing to me. I say that now, and yet when whatever is in the box burrows beneath my skin, I scream louder than I thought possible, writhing against my restraints, tears wetting my cheeks. I've never felt anything like it. The pain started in the heel of my foot, and it felt like hot liquid metal was slowly crawling up my leg, into my bloodstream, towards my heart, towards my head. I have no sense of time, no sense of pain, aside from the line of pain crawling through my body._

_I think I pass out, because when I next blink my eyes open, I just feel a dull ache all over. Whatever was eating me is gone, and so is my captor. I struggle to hold in my emotions, struggle to not let the tears fall. My throat is raw from screaming. If I have to go through something like that again… No matter how strong I am, I __**will**__ be broken._

I don't even have to look up to know my shrink has a horrified look on her face, like she's trying not to throw up. I'm not surprised. I nearly did when I was writing that part. I still have another two small pages covered with writing, but I don't know if she's up for anymore today.

"Haya-chan," she whispers, and I look up, closing the journal as I do so. "I had no idea…"

I shrug, not meeting her gaze. "You're the first to know the whole story. I've never told anyone before you."

"And you've been dealing with these memories for a year?"

I shake my head. "No, only for about the past six months. I refused to let myself think about what happened when I was still in bad condition out in Italy."

She swallows and says nothing. "I think we're done for today," she says quietly. She tries to hide it, but I know she's severely disturbed. I don't blame her, I really don't. I dread the day when Yamamoto finds out what happened exactly. Because of what happened to me, I'm terrified of how he will react when he knows the details.

Minutes later, she leaves, and I leave my door open to let in fresh air. I look down at the closed journal in my lap, and sigh. I know I need to write more, but reading aloud the first of six horrors I suffered took a lot out of me. I lock the journal in my drawer, and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I slowly stretch out my limbs, stretching out the stiffness that built up while I had sat. A light knock on my door draws me out of my tranquil state, and I see one of my nurses with my daily dose of medication.

I sit up with a sigh and take the meds without complaint. I am about to lay back down when the nurse surprises me. "You have a visitor, Haya-chan."

I meet her level gaze, not bothering to conceal my shock. "I thought I asked that I not have visitors so I could focus on my rehab."

She smiles knowingly. "He has been very persistent. He has visited every day, to try to come visit you. Since you are on your last week…" She shrugged. "It you're okay with it, I'll send him up."

I look at my hands. "Yeah, go ahead," I say, my voice cracking a little. "Send him up."


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N.: It will be a while before I update again - I'm going out of town for the weekend, and I've been visiting my cousin down at the Shepherd Center, so I haven't really had a lot of time to write.**

**Summary: Yamamoto visits Gokudera in rehab, and she tells him of her captivity, up to the first of six horrors.**

* * *

I sit in the chair next to the window in my room, lost in thought. I am much stronger than I used to be, but I don't know if I am ready to face Yamamoto again. It was hard enough when I was first released from the hospital, but now that I've had time to come to terms with what happened, I don't want to let Yamamoto live through what I did.

A soft knock on the door pulls me out of my worried thoughts. I half-turn, and I see Yamamoto poke his head around the door. "Hey," he says softly, "can I come in?"

I nod with a small smile, and turn back to the window. I hear a soft click as the door closes behind him, and relax underneath the hand that lightly rests against my shoulder. In my lap, I hold the journal that I spent the last month or so writing in. It would be best if I told him now, a little bit at a time, so he has time to accept all that happened.

He kneels next to me, his head level with mine. "How are you?" He keeps his voice quiet, studying my face.

"Better," I reply, still staring out the window.

"Haya-chan." I turn and face him, but I still don't meet his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Finally, reluctantly, I meet his gaze. "Yes… My…psychologist has helped me out a lot. And therapy isn't as difficult anymore…"

His eyes flick to the journal in my lap before they track back up to mine. "Is it easier?"

I shift, moving my eyes away from his. "Y-yeah… a little…" I lower my head, looking at my hands clasped over my journal that contains my nightmares. "The nightmares stopped," I add quietly.

I see a small smile on his face out of the corner of my eye. "That's great," he murmurs quietly.

I nod and move my hands away from the journal. "I…" I hesitate. _I __**have**__ to do this…_ I turn away from the window. "You should probably have a seat," I mumble, opening the cover of the journal.

He pulls the nearest chair close and takes one of my hands. "Is that - ?"

I grimace. "Unfortunately, the shrink thought it would be a good idea if I wrote everything down."

"Why is that unfortunate?" He looks confused.

"Because it forces me to share the hell I went through."

An uncomfortable silence falls, and he pulls his hand away. "You don't have to - ."

"No," I say, interrupting him. "I _need_ to do this, no matter how hard it is." I swallow and turn to the first page.

He sits back in the chair and waits for me to begin.

* * *

_It started off as a solo mission, just checking out an empty base at the edge of Vongola territory, so I wasn't expecting an ambush. Bullets fly around me in every direction, and a few hit me, but I feel nothing. I know it's futile, but I continue to fight. I can't be taken captive. I'd rather die than be tortured; because I don't want to run the risk of letting the enemies know anything about our plans, but I also don't want to die. I grunt as a bullet slams into my shoulder, forcing me back onto my knees. This needs to end, and quickly, or I'm dead meat._

_One second I'm standing, the next, I'm falling._

_Searing pain jolts along my spine as the knife digs around, trying to pull out the bullet lodged right next to it. I scream into the bloody cloth held between my lips and try to keep my back relaxed. Whoever picked me up is clearly trying to help, but they aren't being nice about it. I hear a faint ping as the bullet hits the ground and sigh as the knife is removed. I feel myself rolled over, and I look on my rescuer for the first time._

_His face is hidden in shadow, but he has broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. I stiffen when I see the insignia on his left shoulder – he belongs to an enemy of the Vongola. "Hello there, little girl," he says, and I try not to shiver at his voice. "I'll pick up a handsome reward from the boss for you… But first, I need you to tell me everything. If you refuse..." He raises the knife in his hand, and I try my best to conceal my fear._

* * *

We sit there for hours, Yamamoto listening silently as I read aloud from the journal containing the details of my torture. I watch his body positioning as I read, noting how he tenses up at some parts, and shifts with worry at others.

I stop reading after the first of the six horrors I endured and look up at him. He looks drained – scared, hurt, fearful, angry, and many other emotions I can't read. "Haya-chan," he says quietly. I swallow and reluctantly meet his gaze. "You don't have to keep reading. I know how hard this is for you…"

I shake my head. "That was the easy part. I've read that before, with the shrink." I turn to a new page, where I had just finished recording the second horror. "I haven't read this yet thought."

He reaches out and takes the book from me, closing it. "Please," he whispers, "I don't want to hear any more. Not today, at least. I just want to spend some time with you, and see you truly happy, for once."

I meet his gaze, and say nothing. He takes my hands, leaving the journal in the half-opened drawer, and leads me outside, to the gardens on campus. I've only been there once before, for a patient luncheon. I hold onto his hand as we walk slowly around the gardens, matching the pace I can manage without over-exerting myself.

He took what I told him better than I thought, and he's not treating me like I'm weak, or overflowing with sympathy. He's treating me with newfound respect, like someone more than an equal. "You're strong, Haya-chan," he says after a while, "stronger than I ever thought… Tsuna deserves someone like you as his right hand."

I look up at him with a small smile as we come to a stop next to the waterfall. "Thank you," I whisper, resting my free hand against his cheek. I say nothing else, but lean up and kiss him on the lips.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N.: Okay, so this is my LAST update before I go out of town this weekend! (I think...) I most likely won't have any time to write/upload tomorrow before I leave. I'll be coming back late Sunday, so it's unlikely you won't get an update until Monday, if then. Sorry about that ^^; But I do lead a very busy lifestyle (yet I always find time to write...).**

**Summary: Gokudera writes more of her book, but how much more of the horrors can Yamamoto take?**

**Warning: Horrors Two and Three out of Six are in this chapter. They're not excessively gruesome, per say, but I'm just putting this up here to say what you read... well, it's not pleasant at all.**

* * *

_That night, I do not sleep. I stare at the ceiling, kept awake by the echo of pain, and the constant tremors. It's cold – abnormally so, even for an air conditioned basement, bunker, or whatever this thing is called. I try to fight back the memories of the creature that burrowed beneath my skin, but my mind keeps returning to that event, and I keep reliving it._

_But my mind is finally pulled away from that event when the door creaks open to admit my tormenter, and day two of six begins._

_Before my imprisonment, I didn't fear fire. I was the Smoking Bomb, I was explosive, and everywhere I went, fire followed me. But now… What happened on day two is far worse than the scalding irons, the molten liquids that were once metals._

_Imagine willfully sticking any part of your body into a bucket of hot coals. No matter how strong or tough or brave you think you are, you can't do it. Believe me, I've experienced it first-hand. Well, not willingly…_

_I can only wait as he throws more wood onto the fire to get more coals, the smoky stench I once loved causing my mind to blank with fear. (No wonder I quit smoking, and not just on account of my injuries). And then, without warning, the hot coals are scooped up, and dumped across my body. I can't even scream. It's as if all the water in my body suddenly evaporates – no tears, no saliva, nothing. The leather straps holding me down are so tight that I can't even squirm._

_It's mercy when I pass out. But the real hell comes when I wake up._

* * *

_I can barely open my eyes when I come to, but the first thing I feel is the cool relief of water, washing gently over my burned body. But I still smell smoke. I pull against the straps, ignoring the flashes of pain, and see him standing by the fire, heating a long dagger. _Shit no, please, anything but that,_ I silently beg._

_But my captor pays no head to my silent pleas, just as he would if I actually voiced them. However, I am not that weak._

_The white-hot blade slices through my skin like its melted butter, burning away flesh and muscle and nerves. It's really quite beautiful, in a morbid sense, because the white-hot blade cauterizes the wound as it cuts, so I do not bleed at all. I just am burned away with each quick and deliberate slice._

_At least now, I can scream and rant and curse. At least now, I give him the reaction that he wants, so after twenty or so cuts, he puts the blade down, and walks away until the next morning._

Yamamoto lowers the journal with a shaky breath. He didn't let me read it aloud, even though it's technically part of my therapy, so I'm forced to wait and see his reaction. I haven't had a chance to write more past the second horror, so the rest, if he has the stomach to read it, will have to wait.

There's a dull thump as he closes the journal and sets it on the window sill, and a long silence stretches between us. It seems like an eternity before he finally speaks. "Do you still have scars from that?"

I have always worn long-sleeve clothing since my release from the hospital to hide the scars, and even while I was in the hospital, I kept most of myself covered to try and hide them.

I turn my back to him, reach my arms over my head, and pull up the back of my cotton long-sleeve shirt. Massive scars crisscross my back – some from the white-hot knife, some from other tortures. I stiffen a little when he reaches out and gently traces some of the scars with his warm hand. "Not all of these are from that," he observes.

I let my shirt fall back down and turn to face him, his hand falling away. "No," I say. "Those came later, around the fourth day." I roll up my left pant leg and show him more of the knife scars. Sorrow creases his normally happy features, and, not for the first time, I wonder if telling him, even showing him the marks left, is a mistake.

But the sorrow vanishes before I have a chance to actually register it, and it is replaced by an unreadable mask. He glances at the clock. "I should go…"

I look down and nod. He cups my chin with one hand and lightly kisses me. "One more week," he whispers, and I suppress a shudder at his choice of words. This is Yamamoto, not my captor. I can trust him, can't I? Instead, I offer him a small smile, and watch him as he leaves my dreary room.

And then I begin to write.

* * *

_I'm surprised, the morning of the third day, when he storms into my cell, talking on his handhold phone. "No!" He sounds angry. "Tell the boss he can wait one more week! One more week, she'll be broken, and she'll tell him everything!"_

_I'm too far away to hear anything but garbled words and static._

_"Look, man, I don't give a rat's ass about that! This chick is my priority; your priority is to make sure none of her menfolk come after me!"_

Menfolk? Since when was that term used, if ever?_ I try to hide my confusion, but before I can eavesdrop more, he snaps the phone shut with an angry, "Go fuck yourself!" and turns his attention to me._

_"Good morning, my little pet," he croons, and I try to not wince. His meaty hand pats my head and runs through my greasy hair. I can't suppress my shudder, but he doesn't notice it. Instead, he heads over to a wired machine in the corner of the room and wheels it over to my table, and begins attaching wires to my head and arms._ Fuck. Electrocution, _I think to myself._

_He attaches the last electrode and smiles – his teeth are far from perfect. "I have one week left with you, little pet. One more week, and then you go to the boss… One more week…"_

_I have no time to respond, because with a flick of a switch, who knows how many volts of electricity shoot through my body, and I scream, my back arching unnaturally against my restraints. He just laughs, and it dawns on me that my captor may be a little more than insane._

* * *

_It gets worse when he brings out the cattle prod. Apparently, my screams aren't enough anymore – he wants to see me squirm. I don't disappoint. The cattle prod has more electricity that what he's got me hooked up to and the smell of burnt skin assails my nostrils, as the prod leaves black welts wherever it touches me. I don't scream, I don't sob, I don't wail. The sound that leaves me at the peak of my torment is anything but human._

_And truly, for the first time since my capture, I want to die._

* * *

I close the journal and fight back a wave of emotions. It's not unexpected, but until I actually wrote the words down, I didn't know the fear that encompassed them.

_I wanted to die._

I had given up. The pain was too much. I was strong, but I wasn't strong enough.

_But I survived._

And I would continue to survive. I would grow strong again, and then I would grow stronger. Never again would I be beaten so easily, humiliated so perfectly.

_Never. Again. _


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N.: I'm back to writing! :D I have to take it easy for the rest of the week since I pulled a muscle in my foot this weekend (how, I have no idea!), so this means a chapter a day, unless I'm busy with something else! Sadly, Never Forget will be wrapping up soon... At least four or five more chapters for me to close everything up. Thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed on this, it means a lot to me.**

**Summary: Day four of six, the Fourth Horror, in Haya-chan's last week of captivity.**

**Warning: Not for people who have weak hearts. I'm serious. **

* * *

_Day Four. At the time, I thought there was nothing more horrible than what occurred to me that day. And yet… of all the pain and suffering I experienced, this day topped my list as the worst. This was the day I was the closest I had ever been to death. This was the day my captor became careless, too absorbed in his anger, and nearly killed me as a result._

_Looking back on it now, I don't know how I survived._

* * *

_After the electrocution, I couldn't sleep. My body wouldn't respond to me – everything felt numb. I just lay there, trying to move, but to no avail._

_When the door opened again in the morning (I presume it was morning, anyways), joy and fear filled my heart as my captor's rough hands undid my bonds. I sat up warily, rubbing my wrists, and watched him as he worked with his back to me. I stretched, wincing at the lines of pain shooting up my limbs, and just sat there. Should I escape?_

_Minutes passed, and he seemed to forget about me completely. As I sat there, I studied my surroundings, biding my time. I couldn't believe my luck when he stepped out of the room, and left the door wide open. I knew he wanted me to try to escape, just so he could punish me, but I wasn't going to let myself be captured. I needed to get out of here; I needed to get back to Jyuudaime and the other Guardians… Yamamoto._

_I bite my lip to hold back a sob of anguish. I can't believe, the whole time I've been captive here, this is the first time I've thought about him. Under normal circumstances, I could never get him out of my head. How could I have forgotten about him?_

_I curl up in a tight ball, tears streaming down my face. "Yamamoto," I whisper into the silence. "Takeshi…" I bury my face in my hands, muffling my sobbing. "I love you, you idiot," I manage to choke out. I'm ashamed with myself. I never told him how I felt, and here I am, at Death's door, hoping that he can somehow hear me._

_It takes a few minutes for me to get a hold on my emotions again. When I do, I stare at the open doorway with renewed determination. I __**will**__ escape. I will see Jyuudaime and Yamamoto again. I will._

* * *

_I've never seen him so angry. I let my guard down when I was almost to the door, and that's when he jumped me. He pummeled me with his fists, yelling and screaming and cursing me in Russian. Unfortunately, I could understand him. I tried to fight back, but he only increased the force behind his blows, knocking me senseless. _

_When I come to, I'm stripped bare and spread eagle midair – heavy chains holding me in place. I'm in a different room than before, this one so dim I can barely see a foot in front of my face. I hear him breathing heavily in the corner._

_"You cannot leave here, pet," he snarled._

_I heard the whip before I felt it. A sharp whistling sound, and then a burning line of pain. Despite myself, I cried out, arching my back. He ignored my cries and the whipping continued - each blow harsher than the last. My wrists and ankles became sore and chaffed, my voice hoarse from yells of pain, my body weak from blood loss. And still, he continued._

_At one point, I know I screamed for him – for Yamamoto – because the whipping stopped, and my captor just laughed. Then he continued, not caring that there was no skin visible to strike – he flayed me open to the bone. The worst part is, I never passed out. The pain kept me awake, kept me screaming, kept me struggling. _

_It wasn't until his anger abated that he cut me down and tossed me on the floor like I was a sack of flour, and left me there to bleed out. I had no control over my muscles, my voice, nothing. I lay there shaking, sobbing, dying._

_When I blacked out, I surely thought I was dead. But no, the thrice accursed son of a bitch wrapped up my wounds as soon as I was out, staunching the bleeding and keeping me alive. I hated him with a burning passion, and only dreamed of what I would do to him if I ever escaped._

_I was left alone for the rest of the day, back in my normal room, wrapped up like a mummy and secured to the table. With the anger he displayed today, I knew that if I pissed him off like that again, I would surely die._

_With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew that I would never escape here on my own power. I would just have to pray to a God, if there were one, that someone out there would find me and save me. _

_As exhaustion dragged me down into unconsciousness, one thought remained a bright light in my mind._

I love you, Takeshi.

_And that thought gave me strength._

* * *

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at my scarred and permanently disfigured frame. There are only a few patches of unmarred skin, and even then, the patches are small and rare. My back is the worst – it's just a mat of scar tissue. I stretch slowly, watching the tissue move and stretch with my body. I sigh, and step into the shower, turning on the water.

I had just finished writing about the fourth day of my last week of captivity and left the journal on my bed with a note to my psychologist.

_'I'm not going to read this one aloud, and I never will, despite what you say about how it is for my therapy. Read it if you desire, but expect to hear no more from me on the subject. I won't read aloud my horrors anymore, and make them real. By writing them down, I expel them from my mind, and excuse them as a work of fiction. I would prefer that they would stay that way._

_~Hayako Gokudera'_

I just stood in the shower, letting the hot water pour over me and the steam surround me. I wouldn't run away anymore. I would just let my experience fade away and let my imagination take over – only once I finished recording the events.

Twenty minutes later, I turn off the water and slowly get dressed in gray skinny jeans and a white, long sleeve shirt. I brush out my silver-gray hair, which is back to its normal shoulder length, and leave my room at a determined pace. I don't know where I'm headed – I just let my feet lead me to where they want to go.

I find myself back in the gardens, where I had written of the first day of my last week, on the day of the patient luncheon. I smile grimly and keep walking, over to the waterfall, under the arch, and into the greenhouse. I find an empty corner and sit there with my eyes closed, breathing deeply. I feel at peace in here, surrounded by the smell of the earth. And I know here, none of my troubles will find me.


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N.: If there are any weird typos, I apologize! I typed this up on my smart phone, and the program I use sadly does not come equipped with spell check :/ Also, Never Forget will most likely be ending in the next chapter unless some really weird inspiration come at me. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this, and I'm sorry I forgot to upload this yesterday! ^^;**

**Summary: Haya-chan manages to write down the last two horrors after her release from rehab - what she can remember of them, anyways.**

* * *

I didn't mean to fall asleep in the greenhouse. It's just... In there, I felt so safe, so sheltered, that I lost all sense of time, and dozed off for bit. It's now dark as I make my way back to my room.

My door is cracked open - strange, I thought I locked it... I push the door open with my foot, naturally slipping into a defensive stance, even though it's been a while since I've sparred with anybody or anything.

I see a tall, dark-haired figure fast asleep on my bed. I bite my lip from going "Awww," because Yamamoto looks really cute when he's asleep. I take down one of the extra blankets on the shelf behind my door and cover him with it, a small smile on my face. I notice my journal open, near his head, and the smile melts. He read more...

With a slight, worried frown, I take the accursed book and set it on the counter. I gently shut my door and lock it, making sure I put up the 'Do Not Disturb' notice before I shut the door. I sit in the chair next to my bed, watching him sleep. (No, it's not creepy. It's seriously adorable). Tentatively, I reach out and brush his hair back and kiss him on his forehead.

He stirs slightly and his fingers gently wrap around my wrist as I begin to sit back. I sigh and roll my eyes half-heartedly. "Yakyu baka," I murmur quietly. I know he's awake because he smiles at that and moves over, gently tugging me towards him. I blush a little, but curl up against him in my tiny hospital bed (that thing is so not made for two people, I don't care how small you think you are). He wraps his arms around me protectively, and I bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his smell. Whatever tension the gardens didn't expel now vanishes. Everything about him screams "you'll be safe with me." And I know I will. He is my shelter during the storm, my never-moving rock. "I love you," I mumble quietly, warm and comfortable and drowsy.

Yamamoto smiles and pulls away a little so he can see my face. "I love you, too, Haya-chan," he says, and then he kisses me. It's different than before. It's slow, gentle, and just everything I need right now. I melt against him and soon drift off to sleep, not caring what my nurses will think when they see us in the morning.

* * *

I wake feeling cold, despite the blanket covering me. I sit up, and see Yamamoto by the window, reading. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, unbidden, and I turn away. But he notices I'm awake and closes the journal. "Haya-chan," he says softly. I ignore him, fighting back the urge to throw myself into his arms and just cry it all out. Yes, I finally admitted to his face that I was in love with him, but that doesn't mean I just throw away what dignity I have left. Yeah, okay, I'm a girl, so I'm allowed to show my weaknesses. But unlike most girls, I'm also an assassin, and a damn good one if I say so myself. No matter what, I'm not supposed to be attached to anything.

"I'm fine," I say, sitting up and throwing the blanket off once my emotions are under control. It takes me a moment to realize he's staring at me, and a moment later to realize my arms and legs are almost fully revealed by my shorts and t-shirt. "Shit," I mumble.

He finally tears his eyes away from the mass of scars. "How are you, Haya-chan?"

"Visiting hours are three to ten during the weekdays," I retaliate, avoiding the question.

"Nine to eleven on the weekends," he counters with a slight frown. "It's Saturday. The day you're released."

With a jolt, I realize he's right. It's the ninth day of September - my birthday, and the day I'm to be released from rehabilitation.

"Happy seventeenth, by the way," he adds with a small smile, handing me a small wrapped box.

I glare at him. "I don't -."

"Haya-chan, will you at least take the gift without complaining this once?" He begs, giving me the puppy dog eyes treatment.

"Che," I mutter, but I say nothing else and slowly unwrap the box. Inside is a simple diamond necklace, but my jaw drops regardless. I am speechless. "Yamamoto..."

He sits down next to me. "Hush," he orders softly. He takes the necklace from me and clasps it around my neck. I touch it gingerly and turn to face him. He just smiles and hugs me tightly. "Happy birthday," he says again.

There's a knock on my door and I pull away from him and stand to go open the door. Just outside is the nurse who was in charge of the other nurses taking care of me during my stay. "Congratulations on your recovery," he says. "There is a car waiting for you and your visitor out front if you are ready to leave."

I thank him and pack my few belongings into a small bag, the journal included. I still hadn't finished recounting the last two days, and I really didn't want to. But I also knew that if I never recorded the events, I wouldn't be able to rest easy.

Yamamoto takes my hand and walks with me slowly to the front of the facility that has been my home for the past six weeks. I don't lean against him for support, and I walk at a determined pace. Today is my birthday. Today is the day I am set free.

* * *

_I feel like a mummy, as wrapped up as I am in bandages. The pain of the whip still lingers, and my body screams in agony at every small movement. So when I'm dunked into a bucket of ice cold water head first and held there, I struggle as much as I can, despite the pain, trying to not black out. I will not die in here. I will be set free._

_I'm gasping for air when he finally releases me, but I don't have much time to recover before I'm dunked into another bucket - this one filled with scalding hot water. And it is on this fifth day of my last week I let myself be weak. I go limp, and succumb to the agony. But all I did was prolong the torture. _

* * *

_I wake up, encased in a dark, tight area. I'm really not good with tight spaces, especially since I'm claustrophobic. I try to control my breathing and notice my arms and legs are secured - I'm hog-tied. I let out a scream of frustration and buck against my restraints, slamming my tortured body against my confined area. I will get out. I will not panic. I will survive this._

_I beg for mercy, when I realize I can't break out of the box, yet I hear nothing but my own words echoing back at me. I don't know how long I'm trapped in the box, pleading for release, but I eventually pass out due to exhaustion._

_And when I wake up, I am free. _

* * *

_I really didn't understand, at the time, why my captor had locked me up in that box. Was his boss getting impatient with him? It was obvious enough he hadn't broken me yet..._

_It must be the sixth day, because he walks in looking like he didn't sleep at all. I watch, emotionless, as he lets me up from the table and hands me my dynamite. I just stare at him, confused. What the hell is going on?_

_"Get up," he snaps, irritated, "and fight me. You win, I let you go. You lose..." He doesn't finish his sentence. I don't need him to._

_I slide off the table, the dynamite in my fingers disappearing as I skillfully tuck it out of sight for the time being. He leads me to a large, empty room, and stands at one end of it, waiting for me to make the first move. Unfortunately for him, I already have._

_The sounds of explosions echo loudly in the space as the mini bombs I had rolled at him detonated. He just smiles his easy smile, and I can only watch as he seems to absorb the flames. What the fuck?!_

_"This is child's play," he muses, rolling a small ball shaped flame between his fingers. "To think that the Vongola Storm Guardian struck fear in the hearts of all men... Pathetic." He throws my fire back at me and I dive to the side, suppressing a groan of pain._

_We fight for ages, and I know he's going easy on me. It's frustrating, realizing how weak I am without my Guardian Ring. I can only fight the way I know how - with dynamite. No special tricks, no annoyingly adorable leopard, no epic Storm Flames. Just me and a few explosives. I'm amazed I fought as long as I did._

_But he still turns our battle into torture, and it doesn't take long before I'm screaming for the pain to stop._

* * *

I set down my pen with a sigh. I'm back in my apartment, looking out the lone window, finishing my journal. I only have a little bit more to write - my rescue, and the last few minutes before Yamamoto found me. I look at my scarred left arm on the table before me with a slight frown. I haven't fought since that day. I haven't wanted to, or had the strength. But now...

I find myself remembering his last words to me when the car dropped him off at his house.

"Stay safe for me, Haya-chan. Oh and one other thing..." He smiles his idiotic smile. "Call me Takeshi."

* * *

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N.: *cry of anguish* FINALLY IT'S COMPLETE! Here is the final chapter of Never Forget... God I hate last chapters... I rewrote this thing SEVEN TIMES until I finally liked it. I really hope you do as well. Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this, your support means a lot to me :)**

**Summary: Haya-chan readjusts to normal life again (with an ending that will make you go, "Aww!").**

* * *

Two days after my release from rehab, I'm back in the gym, slowly building up my strength again. It's strange being out in the normal world again, after being secluded for almost two years. And next week, I'm scheduled to go back to Namimori – back into the routine lifestyle I missed. For once, I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm staying in my apartment, which I spent the previous two days cleaning up, alone – just the way I like it. No nurses, no hospital smell, just me.

My apartment smells like cigarette smoke – I find myself still enjoying the smell even though I haven't touched a cigarette in ages, and I probably never will again. Fear changes you, sometimes for good.

I don't try to hide my scars anymore. What happened to me can never be changed, and the scars are a permanent part of me, just like the memories. Sure, I get weird stares whenever I'm out in public, but I ignore them. Let people wonder what happened to me. Maybe someday they'll know the whole story. Maybe not. I've been stared at before for my appearance – why should that change? It feels right – it feels normal.

Twenty minutes later, I'm leaving the gym, coated in sweat, and heading for my apartment. I made up a schedule for myself to follow just so I can try to feel more normal, and so far, it's working. I've even started playing piano again. After what I went through, Bianchi just doesn't scare me anymore. I can look her in the face like an equal, and not feel like I want to pass out.

But there is one thing that is messing with my routine. Yamamoto – or should I say Takeshi now? He's stopped by every evening, and he brings food with him. I don't mind his company, but I'm starting to wonder what exactly it is he wants. I know he's concerned for me – any logical person would be – but it's become slightly annoying. He's still an idiot, but I think it's safe to say that he's sorta become **_my_** idiot. It's cute, even if annoying, that he worries about me so much. It's strange too. I've never had anyone care for me the way he has and does. I think I can grow to like and enjoy it, but for now, I'm just cautious about it.

I unlock the door to my apartment, not surprised to find several letters under my door when I open it. Ever since my release, the letters have come from people I don't even know, but I suppose they go to Namimori and they've been kept updated on my condition, but not what exactly happened to me. At the bottom of the pile, I see a simple blue envelope with my name on it – no return address or anything. Curious, I open it and find just one sheet of light blue paper with just one line on it.

_'When you get home, come to the park.'_

There's no signature, but I smile slightly because I recognize the handwriting. It's exactly something he would do…

I take a quick shower and change into light gray skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. I'm not in a rush, but I am a little curious about why Takeshi would want me to meet him in the park… A loud rumbling purr startles me, and then Uri claws at my leg, as if to say, "Don't forget me!"

Uri's warmed up to me slowly, and we can actually hang out without him trying to claw my face off (which almost happened when I first activated him in the future…). With a smile, I pick him up and set him across my shoulders and head out the door, grabbing my jacket on the way out, just in case I might need it later.

I walk slowly, Uri's purring loud and content. The park isn't far from my apartment, but I appreciate the extra exercise the walk provides. It's a little past three in the afternoon right now, so the sun is still fairly high in the sky.

I'm not surprised to find the park absolutely empty of human life when I approach, although my senses tell my eyes otherwise. I _know_ there are people here, but I just don't know where yet. Maintaining my slow pace, I head straight for the pond in the middle, staring down into the clear water, just waiting. Uri jumps down from my shoulders and runs off, chasing who knows what.

I stand there for a few minutes, my eyes closed, relying on my hearing, so I don't react when I hear the soft _swish_ of clothing and the slight rustling of the grass. "Hayako-chan," someone says behind me. I half-turn and see the Tenth approaching me. I blush a little and turn to face him, bowing slightly.

"Tenth," I reply, a little flustered.

He notes my surprise with a slight smile and rests a hand on my shoulder. I rise out of my bow and meet his level gaze. "Welcome home, Hayako-chan," he says, still smiling lightly.

"Thank you," I murmur quietly, blushing lightly. Despite everything that's been going on with Takeshi, I still have feelings for the Tenth, even though I know nothing will happen between us that isn't Mafia business.

The Tenth turns and looks over his shoulder. I follow his gaze and see everyone in the Tenth generation Vongola famiglia entering the park, the remaining five guardians in the front of the group. "Tenth," I say, shocked.

His smile widens and he gently leads me over to the group. "This was Yamamoto's idea," he supplies, watching my reaction. At school he's called "No-good Tsuna," but he is smarter than he lets on, so I'm not surprised he suspects something is going on between Takeshi and I.

I roll me eyes, but I smile. "Of course it was," I murmur. The crowd envelops me, welcoming me home like… well, like family, which is exactly what we are.

* * *

Time passes quickly, and before I know it, the sun is setting, and most everyone has left the park. Soon it's just me, Takeshi, and the Tenth left. Uri is asleep at my feet, curled up in a tight little ball of cuteness.

The Tenth stands. "I should go – Reborn said he needed me for something," he says. "Stay out of trouble, Hayako-chan," he adds as he walks away, tall and proud, very much in the role of the Mafia boss.

Takeshi takes my hand as I watch the Tenth walk away, and I turn to face him. "Haya-chan," he starts softly, but I stop him with a finger against his lips.

"Thank you," I say simply.

He smiles a little at that and stands, gently pulling me to my feet. We walk around the pond in silence, enjoying each other's company. It's a long while before he says anything. "I know it's a little early to be thinking about this, but…" He blushes and stops himself.

I stop and turn to face him. "What is it?" I ask, my green eyes studying his brown ones.

He swallows nervously before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. "Hayako Gokudera," he says, keeping his eyes on mine, "I know we still haven't graduated yet, and some people are going to think that this is an immature decision... but I love you. So," he takes a deep breath and opens the box, staring at me intently. "When we're of age… will you marry me?"

My jaw drops in surprise, and I glance down at the box. Inside is a small and simple silver ring. "I…" I'm speechless with surprise. I look back up into his eyes, and realize that this safe feeling I always feel with him could be mine, forever. And I want it to be. "Yes," I say simply, leaning up on my toes and kissing him passionately, wrapping my arms around his neck.

* * *

I promised myself I would never forget, and I never will. It's just now, I have everything I could ever want in the world, and I know that will never change.

* * *

~The End

**A.N.: Again, thank you so much to everyone who has read this far! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of this! It is very much appreciated.**


End file.
